


Twelve Good Men and True

by Lynchy8



Series: Fun (and sad!) little drabbles [9]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Crack, Enjolras gets called for Jury duty, M/M, no seriously this is complete crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is required to undertake Jury duty. He is thrilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Good Men and True

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epeolatry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolatry/gifts).



> Cat (epeolatry) prompted this for me to keep me sane over Christmas.

Bahorel nearly collided with Musichetta as he climbed the stairs to the quiet top floor of the Musain where he knew his friends were located.

"I wouldn't go up there if I were you," the young bar maid said, rolling her eyes as she continued down the stairs.

"Why?" Bahorel frowned suspiciously. He checked his phone. Usually he had a text, or sometimes Feuilly met him outside, if there was a particularly bad row going on. Chetta just smiled knowingly at him before disappearing from view. Sighing deeply, Bahorel slowly climbed the few remaining steps towards his doom.

At first everything seemed normal. No one was standing up, which was a good sign. R was in his usual seat with Joly and Bossuet, Jehan was sitting with Feuilly and Courfeyrac and then over by the window Combeferre was, well, he was pinching his nose which wasn't necessarily a good sign. But Enjolras was smiling.

Oh god Enjolras was smiling. It wasn't a smile of welcome, it was more like the smile a predator would give at the sight of prey. The last time Bahorel had seen that smile it had been directed at a particularly stupid man who had decided to air his views on equal marriage whilst sitting at the table over from where they were all celebrating Jehan's birthday. Needless to say it had not ended well but Enjolras had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

"What are you so chirpy about?" He asked by way of a greeting. There was a loud groan from around the room. Courfeyrac slammed his head down on the table and he heard Joly moan "don't ask him!" in a desperate voice from behind. Combeferre simply gave him a look that could strip paint from a door frame and Bahorel found himself recoiling slightly.

Enjolras beamed at him, pressing his hands together.

"I have been chosen," he announced proudly "to represent my community, to make a difference -" There was a snort from the far table which Enjolras decided to ignore by raising his chin a little higher in defiance.

"To be an instrument of justice."

Bahorel just stared at him.

"What Enjolras is trying to say," Combeferre helpfully supplied, although somewhat dryly, "is that he's been called for Jury duty."

"Oh right," Bahorel dropped down in the vacant chair next to Feuilly with the intention of nicking his drink. Feuilly batted his hand away hissing.

"Bad luck, mate. I got cornered for that a few years ago."

Enjolras's eyes lit up like Christmas trees and instantly he rose to his feet, bearing down upon Bahorel with a look of wonder on his face. Bahorel stared back at him in bemusement.

"You must tell me everything!" Enjolras commanded, eyes blazing, face flushed. Bahorel shrugged in amusement.

"It was really boring. Some bloke up for assault. Lots of talking. Guilty"

"Boring?!" Enjolras looked as though he was about to burst a blood vessel. "It is a privilege, not to mention your social responsibility to listen to all the evidence presented with the utmost care -"

"Enjolras," Combeferre sighed a warning, reaching out to place a calming hand upon his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sure Bahorel gave it his complete attention and did a fine job. Now come and sit down."

Enjolras allowed himself to be drawn back to his seat.

The next few days were spent mostly trying not mention the J word. Enjolras became insufferable, extrapolating at length his hopes and aspirations for his upcoming service. He was probably the only person alive who was genuinely delighted to have his life interfered with in such a manner.

"We all knew this day would come," Combeferre muttered to Courfeyrac as Enjolras went off on another speech about social justice in relation to peer justice, the symbolism of the twelve chosen representatives and _oh dear god would the man ever stop!_

"I just didn't think it would be this bad."

Courfeyrac shot a dirty look towards the Chief who was currently boring Bossuet almost to tears after the poor man mistakenly mentioned an Ian Dury song. They were discussing at length what types of crime Enjolras might have to hear. Grantaire had to be forcibly silenced with threats by Bahorel and Feuilly after egging the man on with increasingly wild suggestions.

"Not that I like the idea of a murder, you understand," he clarified to a completely terrified Bossuet who didn't know whether to nod or shake his head.

"Perhaps an attempted murder. Or maybe some sort of fraud. A crime syndicate, or a businessman ripping off hundreds of people, embezzling the money of the innocent..."

Courf turned back to Combeferre with a pained look on his face.

"I did," he grunted ruefully.

"And of course," Enjolras's voice carried through the room, "when it comes to delivering the verdict, when we have finished considering all the evidence as presented during the trial... oh!"

Courfeyrac groaned again, burying his head into his arms as Enjolras swung round towards them, eyes wide.

"Do you think..." Enjolras's voice was low, almost reverential. "Do you think they might allow me to deliver the verdict to the foreman?"

"I think I know what I'm going to get Enjolras for his secret Santa next year." Grantaire was ostensibly talking to Jehan, but his voice was deliberately loud enough to be heard by everyone.

"A white wig to go with his red coat. And a black cap for those "special" occasions," he winked before taking a sip of his beer. There were a variety of suppressed snorts from around the room which were swiftly converted into coughs and silence as Enjolras stormed over to where the artist sat smirking.

"That is absolutely ridiculous, Grantaire. Apart from the fact that I abhor the death penalty, it is not for me to pass sentence, merely to help provide and deliver a verdict!"

Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"You didn't seem so thrilled about "instruments of justice" when you were being arrested for breach of the peace last month at that Amnesty event," Grantaire retorted, head on one side, a challenging look on his face.

"That was entirely different. It is my right to protest injustices in this country under..."

The others were able to slip away, leaving Enjolras and Grantaire to their no-doubt enlightened and technically accurate death-match. It would be over soon enough. Enjolras would do his jury duty and then they could all go back to their lives.

+++

"So, Enjolras," Grantaire's tone was sugar-sweet and laced with arsenic. "Do tell us about this amazing case of yours."

Enjolras frowned at him.

"I'm afraid I am not permitted to discuss anything outside the court room," he replied stiffly.

The room subsided into a comfortable lull of chatter.

"Jehan," Grantaire started again, clapping the smaller man on the back in an amiable fashion. "Do you read the papers?"

Jehan looked somewhat bemused but decided to indulge his table companion, unaware of Courfeyrac's frantic gestures behind him.

"Erm, not recently?" Grantaire shot him a wolfish grin.

"Well, my dear friend, I made a point of buying the paper as I knew our fearless leader was on such an important mission the last few days."

"Grantaire -"

The man in question ignored Combeferre's warning tone.

"And do you know what case was being heard in court the past few days?"

"Grantaire..." Combeferre's tone was more urgent now, rising in volume as Enjolras turned from red to purple.

"The only case being held over the last few days was a really important case - one which has serious repercussions for us all, where there was a severe risk of our civil liberties being infringed..."

"I don't think this is helpful -" Combeferre rose to his feet, hoping to still prevent his best friend from exploding.

"Speeding." Grantaire collapsed into hysterical giggles. Bahorel almost spat out his pint while Feuilly failed in keeping his face straight.

"The only case being held before a jury this week was a man who had too many points on his licence and had been caught speeding for the last time."

"I'll have you know," Enjolras sprang up, a vein throbbing in his forehead "that he was a repeat offender and that justice was delivered"

Grantaire just laughed at him as he stormed from the room. As the door slammed, everyone but Combeferre dissolved into hysterical chuckles.

"Well thanks a lot," muttered Combeferre, knowing that Enjolras was going to be even more of a nightmare to live with after this.


End file.
